Golden Trio Married Life
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: It has been about five years since I last wrote a Golden Trio Love fic. But I have rediscovered the topic recently, and this idea would not leave me alone! I hope you all enjoy it! Please Review!
1. Chapter 1: Potter-Weasley-Granger Househ

**Chapter 1: Potter-Weasley-Granger Household**

Hermione stirred from sleep at the first graying of the light. Even after that, though, she lay quietly in the bed, not rustling the sheets. She could feel hands spooning her, cupping her breasts from behind, the touch tingling over her simple nightie. Chuckling in amusement, she craned her head back to regard a snoring Harry. She used to hate it when he snored, but being married and sharing a bed for five years had endeared her to the sound. She kissed Harry's lips gently, and murmured, "I love you..."

Harry's rumbling was punctuated by a sharp snort, but he did not wake.

Hermione snuggled back down into the bedclothes, giggling. In front of her, the warmth of Ron's muscular backside pressed into her. Her womanly nether regions brushed up against his toned buttocks, and she had to stifle a moan. It had been months since she had been relegated to the middle position in the large queen bed - to do so in the state she had been in would have been intolerable, and likely resulted in one or both of her husbands resting precariously on the edge of the bed, if not outright pushed from it.

Hermione had not expected for her two best friends to propose marriage. She had always been a fairly simple girl, and had certainly never regarded herself as pretty. As a child, she had imagined her wedding, telling her fantasies to her mother while she brushed her hair. Hermione had never, in her wildest dreams, imagined donning a white dress and pledging her life and her love to two men rather than one. The bridal gown had been simple, as simple as the ceremony out by the Black Lake, where they had exchanged vows and rings. Both of the pendants now glistened on her right hand - the first having once been the ring of Gaunt, now purged of its Horcrux past (that had been Harry's gift to her). The other ring had once belonged to Ron's grandmother.

The sky now began to glow an inviting, soothing pink. It was almost like a cue, for just then, Hermione heard cooing and tiny sounds coming from the baby monitor on Ron's nightstand. Reaching over him - and ignoring the aroused cramp in her legs where her womanhood brushed up once again alongside his tight arse - she grabbed the contraption and clambered over Ron's prone form. Her bushy brown hair in curlers, slippers slid on her feet, she padded down the hall to the nursery.

Her baby girl was standing up in her crib, tiny fists clutching the bars, her face broken out into a toothy grin. Hermione regarded her daughter blearily and full of love.

"Hello, Josephine Michelle Cozybear! Good morning!" she crooned.

Josephine shrieked in delight and reached for her mother. Hermione trilled out a laugh and glided over to the crib. She would never forget when she had first told Harry and Ron that she was carrying their baby, that she was pregnant. Harry had let out something akin to a war whoop and Ron had proceeded to snog her senseless and take her over the kitchen table. Hermione now lay Josephine back in her crib and bounced her palms along her chest, tickling her.

"Happy Birthday to you... oh Happy Birthday to you..." she sang as Josephine stared at her with glee. Josephine Michelle Potter-Weasley had been born two years ago this very morning, leaving Hermione in labor for close to seventeen hours. But every last one of those hours had been worth it in the end. Josephine had Ron's red hair, and Harry's deep green eyes.

Josephine didn't want to go down again, so Hermione finally lifted her from her crib, grunting. "Wanna help Mummy fix breakfast?"

Josephine gave another shriek and started to play with Hermione's brown curls. She smiled. "I'll take that as a Yes, then." Mother and baby padded downstairs to the kitchen, where Hermione fixed some eggs onto a skillet. All the while, she bounced Josephine along her hip, trying to get her to talk. Maybe today would be the day, that she said her first words.

"Hi, Jo-Jo! Jo-Jo, can you say Mama?"

Josephine just giggled. A creak on the stairs made Hermione spin around. Next second, she was being pressed back into the counter, bent back over the stove as her husband gave her a long, lingering kiss. Hermione flung her arms about his neck, tangling her free hand into his red locks as she purred in pleasure. "Hmmm... Ron..."

Ron chuckled. "You're the sexiest thing I've ever seen, love, especially when you get up in the morning."

"Hmm," Hermione hummed. "You certainly know how to flatter a woman, Mr. Weasley."

"That's Mr. _Potter_ -Weasley to you."

Hermione beamed and bounced Josephine. "Jo-Jo, can you say Good morning to Da-Da?"

Josephine just urped onto her pajamas in response. Hermione frowned, and Ron laughed.

"With you as her mother, there's no way she won't be bloody brilliant!"

"Yeah, well, she's got your ears, so that might be debatable." Harry Potter chuckled as he emerged on the stairwell landing, clad in a robe.

"My ears are just fine, thank you," Ron deadpanned, pretending to take offense. "They could hear your snoring all bloody night!"

Harry just rolled his eyes, ignoring his wife's giggle. "Thank Merlin for Saturday mornings!"

"Small pleasures," Ron shrugged. He turned his attention to the skillet, making sure the eggs didn't burn, as Hermione placed a wriggling Josephine in her highchair. Glancing behind her, she spotted Harry wrap himself around Ron from behind, his hands overlaying on Ron's large paws as he guided him on how to cook the eggs.

"I know how you like yours, mate!" Ron laughed. "Over-easy! Really, by now you should have more confidence in my culinary abilities!" He was cut off as Harry craned his face around to mash his lips against those of his husband.

"If you cooked half as well as you snog, my dear, you would rival Anthony Bourdain as a chef," Harry proclaimed when he came up for air.

"I thought I already did."

"Only in your mind, my bragging husband!" And Harry went back to snogging Ron rather indecently. The sight aroused Hermione to no end, and she let out a moan. She flushed as Harry and Ron suddenly stopped to stare at her, amused.

"You want in, my love?" Harry smirked.

Hermione pouted. "Why don't I get a kiss?" Harry shook his head and sauntered over. Yanking Hermione to him from around her waist, he proceeded to kiss her breathless. His tongue hijacked her mouth with ease. A medium-sized hand reached out to palm her breast audaciously through her nightie, tweaking the nipple in a way that made Hermione squirm.

"Even with bedhead, you're bloody gorgeous!" Harry murmured into her lips. He finally released her, then endowed her with a parting, chaste peck. "Good morning, darling."

"Good morning," Hermione sighed. "Nice to know I'm still equal."

"You and Ron _are_ equal," Harry promised with an easy smile. "Remember our vows?"

"I should hope I do!" Hermione laughed. Her delicate fingers took to playing with the nape of his neck - jet-black hair that refused to remain tidy. Just the way she liked it. "You remember how we met?"

Harry grinned. "How could I forget?"


	2. Chapter 2: Eleven Years Earlier

**Chapter 2: Eleven Years Earlier**

Hermione Granger stalked down the train car corridor, keeping her eyes peeled all the while for a toad. Yes, a toad. When that hapless boy Neville had approached her nearly in tears asking if she had seen his pet toad Trevor, of course she had agreed to help him look for it. The two first years had resolved to proceed down the train car in opposite directions, then circle back and meet again in the center.

Trying the next compartment door, Hermione entered to quite a sight.

Two boys were sitting on a plush bench, with what looked like the entirety of the Trolley Cart spread out before them. One boy had jet black hair and piercing green eyes that made Hermione feel strangely warm when his gaze locked onto hers. The other boy had flaming red hair and a wand in his hand, which was pointedly raised over an ugly pet rat.

In that moment, Hermione felt as though the breath had been strangely knocked out of her lungs. Sure, she was winded from hoofing it all the way down that train car, but now she felt like she had no air at all with which to speak. The redhead frowned at her in the most adorable way that Hermione nearly sighed. She quickly masked it into a tired scoff.

"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."

Both boys shook their heads. Pretending to notice the wand for the first time, she remarked, "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

Hermione had never been very good at flirting, nor done much of it back in her Muggle primary school, but this was the best way she knew how. Indeed, her tummy did a tiny, almost inexplicable flip flop when the ginger blushed almost as red as his hair. He cleared his throat impressively.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow... turn this stupid fat rat yellow." An ineffective spark zapped the poor little beast and sent him darting into an empty carton of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"Are you sure that's a _real_ spell?" Hermione mused. "Well, it's not very good, is it?" She mentally kicked herself. _Why did I say that?_ But her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. "I've been working on more advanced spells, but they've all worked for me." She crossed to the empty plush bench, seating herself so she was directly facing the boy with the green eyes. Spectacles hung loosely over his face that seemed to make his irises all the more enchanting. "For example... _Occulus Reparo_!"

The center piece connecting both lenses righted itself. Hermione was pleased to note how astonished and impressed the green-eyed boy seemed to be, as he took off the glasses to inspect them. That was when she realized: she _recognized_ him...

"Holy cricket... you're Harry _Potter_! I'm Hermione Granger. And... you are?"

She didn't mean for it to come out so condescending, but at that moment the ginger was stuffing his face with sweets. It wasn't exactly becoming.

"Ron Weasley."

"Pleasure," she deadpanned. It was the only way for her to cover how she was dying inside. She flounced to the door, hoping to scuttle away and pine by herself, but her mouth had other ideas. She just _had_ to get in one parting shot. "You've got _dirt_ on your nose, by the way. Did you know? Just there."

Ron flicked at his nostrils as Hermione turned away. She all but ran back to her own empty compartment, nearly forgetting to meet in the center of the car and report to Neville that no, she had not found his toad.

So that was what all the stories and fairy tales meant when they talked about love at first sight. A strange little voice was whispering in Hermione's head saying, _You just met your husband. You're going to give birth to his baby one day._

Oh, Merlin... if only that were true! She briefly frowned at the little voice in her head, asking her which one of those boys was the man she would someday marry. But perhaps it didn't matter which. They were both so bloody _handsome_. Just thinking of that made her check her reflection in the compartment door. She was less than reassured by what she saw. Why would the Boy Who Lived, or Ron Weasley, or any boy for that matter, want a frumpy girl like herself?

But then Hermione remembered something her mummy used to tell her: when you meet the one you love, you'll be a big girl, and he will be your very best friend.

And so, as the train whistle blew, Hermione resolved that she would be friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. After all, she was a Muggle, and in this world, a Muggle needed friends.

* * *

The courtyard was clogged this afternoon, leaving Charms class. Keeping her books tight to her chest, Hermione wheeled her thoughts back over the previous period, scolding herself for sounding so bossy. Even though she was just trying to help Ron. Why couldn't her good intentions translate with a better tone? She just wanted him to do his best. That is all she had ever wanted, these first several weeks of school.

Just then, Ron's voice floated back to her on the wind. He was up ahead with Harry and a few other boys.

"It's Leviooooooosa... she's a nightmare, honestly!"

Hermione stopped short, gasping sharply as if she had just been slapped across the face. Or punched in the gut. Either way, she now had the desire to just crawl into a hole and stay there. Her pupils pricking with tears, Hermione shoved past Ron and his group as hard and as quickly as she could, trying and failing to hold back a sob. She sensed their footfalls halt behind her and was glad they did not follow. But to his credit, she just caught Harry saying to Ron, "I think she heard you."

* * *

Hours had passed by the time Hermione emerged from the bathroom stall, wiping at her eyes fruitlessly. She had been unable to stop crying.

There had gone her chance. Her chance to have those two beautiful boys as friends, and possibly have any friends at all. Except for maybe Neville, but it seemed apparent that they were both doomed to share the same leaking, socially inept boat. Her name would be mud in Gryffindor House, and throughout her whole year.

She didn't mean to be such a know-it-all. She loved learning, and just wanted others to love it just as much, and to do their very best. She had never shied away from trying to help out a classmate, especially someone as cute as Ron. Why did she always have to sound so bossy?

She couldn't exactly blame Ron for taking it the way he did. But did he have to say those things about her?

An odd sound - something like a growl - made Hermione look up. There, shadowing out the glow of the overhead lights, was the most foul troll she had ever seen. A troll! In the castle? How...? Hogwarts and its grounds did a good job of naturally keeping magical creatures away from the students. Hagrid, the kindly Gamekeeper, helped too.

Her heart in her mouth, her breath now somewhere in her stomach, Hermione slowly backed away towards the stalls. The troll stalked after her. Well, if she was to die here, maybe it was better to have it over and done with quickly, rather than die a little bit every day knowing she had squandered her chance for the love she so craved.

The troll raised a massive club, and Hermione dived into one stall, curling up under one of the toilets. There was a horrific crash as the entire row of stalls was cleaved in half, sending splinters of wood every which way. Hermione's scream was drowned out by an ominous clap of thunder from the Halloween rainstorm outside.

Just then, right on the heels of the thunder clap, there was a bang as the door to the lavatory was thrust open. The succeeding flash of lightning illuminated, as Hermione peered in surprise through the splinters of wood, no... it couldn't be...

Harry's beautiful eyes locked onto hers. "Hermione, MOVE!" he bellowed, and his voice seemed to have a hypnotizing effect on her. As she began to commando crawl out of the destroyed stalls, Hermione knew that she would do anything that dynamic voice told her.

She was just out of the ruins of the stalls when the troll spotted her and brought his club down hard. Hermione barely made it under the sinks, so that the one directly behind her was obliterated, sending water spraying.

She screamed. "HELP!" At a loss for what to do in terms of combat, Harry and Ron resorted to picking up stall splinters and hurling them at the troll, who was blocking their pathway to Hermione. Between the troll's massive feet, Hermione could see them and she spotted Ron lift a particular large splinter the size of his forearm and chuck it at the creature.

"Hey! Peabrain!"

His aim was true, and pesky enough that he finally got the troll's attention. The beast turned slowly, lumbering, as his focus shifted to the boys behind him. The club in his hand swung dangerously, directionless, reaching back so that it looked like it was going to nearly go toppling backwards into the sinks and Hermione.

Harry seized his chance. Running around the troll, he grabbed onto the club so that its motion lifted the young lad off his feet. Without a plan, and without fully understanding how he got there, Harry had in the next moment ended up perched on the troll's shoulders. Hermione shrank against the wall, watching in fear and amazement. He was so brave...

Harry was jostled violently as the agitated troll worked to dislodge him. Eventually, the black-haired boy was yanked from his perch and dangled upside down by the troll's massive paw. "DO SOMETHING!"

"What?" Ron searched around almost stupidly.

"ANYTHING!" Harry screeched, desperate and frustrated. "Hurry up!"

Ron dove for his wand in his robes, and Hermione quickly figured out what he planned on doing even as he was preparing to do it.

"Swish and flick!" she encouraged, harkening back to their lesson that morning.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_!" Ron recited the incantation perfectly. Immediately, the club was wrested from the troll's hand and hung suspended, above the fray. The troll looked up in confused shock.

Ron hadn't really meant to release the spell at that moment, but the lowering of his wand prompted the club to fall with a crack on its owner's head. Oh, well. Ron would take it. And the assault forced the troll to drop Harry, headfirst, onto the bathroom tiles, who immediately scrambled backwards like a spider on all fours as the troll swayed, stumbled... and finally collapsed in an unconscious heap before them.

"Cool," Ron breathed, a dazzling grin on his face.

Shaking, Hermione slowly stood and circled the body, moving through the sprays of water still deluging the bathroom. "Is it... dead?"

"I don't think so. Just knocked out," Harry informed her. He happened to look down and notice that his own wand had somehow ended up jabbed into the troll's nose. Wincing, Harry pulled it free, gagging at the troll bogeys.

A stampede of feet made the Trio look up. Minerva McGonagall swept in in the lead, followed by a dithering Quirrell and a flabbergasted Snape. "Oh, my goodness! Explain yourselves, both of you!" she demanded of the boys.

"It's my fault, Professor McGonagall."

Hermione had never lied in her life. But if it meant the boys who had rescued her, whom she cared for, were spared punishment, so be it. Besides, she had to tell them she was sorry some way. "I went looking for the troll. I've read all about them and thought I could deal with it on my own. But I was wrong. If Harry and Ron hadn't come and found me, I'd probably be dead." Unnoticed by the teachers, she shot the boys a tentative smile. Their surprised faces hardly seemed to register it, though Harry recovered more quickly.

Naturally, McGonagall was furious, and Hermione accepted the five point deduction from Gryffindor without complaint. Her fib worked out better than she had hoped, for Harry and Ron were actually awarded five points each for "sheer, dumb luck" in "knocking out a fully grown mountain troll and living to tell the tale." So Hermione's transgression was rendered moot anyhow.

The trio walked in silence through the deserted corridors back to their Common Room.

"Reckon we deserved those points," Harry mumbled.

"Mind you, we _did_ save her life," Ron added.

Even if they were being a little conceited, Hermione could only smile. She stuck out a hand. "Friends?"

Both boys looked at each other, then one by one, grasped Hermione's hand. Neither noticed Hermione's small intake of breath as their grips sent a warm, fuzzy tingle through her fingers.

"Friends," all three agreed.


	3. Chapter 3: That Fabulous Face

**Chapter 3: That Fabulous Face**

Hermione hoped against hope that this wouldn't become a theme. That every time she found herself in an embarrassing or humiliating moment or was somehow damaged emotionally, her first course of action was to run into a bathroom and cry.

She had wanted so badly to go with her boys and find out what Draco Malfoy was hiding. Hell, this whole plan with the Polyjuice Potion had been her idea. But, when her own transformation had gone horribly wrong (she was more angry than sad about that point - she considered herself to be a very detail-oriented person), Hermione had remained in her stall and begged off, refusing to explain why she was bowing out at the last moment.

Suddenly, she heard the approaching rumble of feet, of splashes as the newcomers waded through ankle-deep water; Mrytle had flooded the bathroom again.

"Hermione? Come on out; we've got loads to tell you!" Harry called. Hearing his voice made Hermione deflate in relief. If Draco had discovered Harry or Ron... he would not have been above playing dirty, and she shuddered at the very thought.

"Wait till you see it," Mrytle giggled. "It's awful!" If the little brat wasn't a ghost, Hermione would have hexed her.

A banging sound now came against the door to her stall. "'Mione? Are you OK?" Ron's concerned voice echoed. The door creaked as it was pushed back without Ron even waiting for a reply.

"Do you remember how I said I got hairs off Millicent Bullstrode? Well, I was wrong. It was _cat_ hair I got off of Millicent Bullstrode's robes." Hermione stepped into the light, looking crestfallen. Surely underneath all this fur, she was blushing, mortified. "Look at my face," she despaired sadly.

"Look at your _tail_!" Ron grinned.

Hermione couldn't help it. She smiled back. Leave it to Ron to find the humor in something bad; it always cheered her up.

* * *

She was still getting used to the sensation of walking again, as she finally rounded the corner to the Great Hall. Every sight around looked like it was something out of a dream, for she hadn't looked upon the castle in so long. Pushing open the great oak doors, she emerged into the Great Hall. Like a heat-seeking missile, her eyes found them - well-trained by now to pick them out in a crowd.

Three pairs of eyes met, and Hermione felt herself grow very warm, from the tips of her ears to the tips of her toes, as she always did when she looked upon her boys. On gangly legs, Harry and Ron staggered out of their seats on the Gryffindor benches and ran the length of the table to her; Hermione sprinted in their direction, beaming.

She wanted to fling herself into their arms. For one mad moment, she even contemplated just kissing them both breathless. The thought made her take pause as quickly as it had burst into her brain unbidden, and the Trio skidded to a stop just before colliding, regarding one another awkwardly. At last, Hermione held out both her hands. Harry and Ron rolled with it, clasping each other's forearms in a three-way handshake, so that everyone was shaking hands with everybody else.

"What a sight we are!" Harry chortled. "Jimmy Carter couldn't have done it better!"

Ron frowned. "Who's Jimmy Carter?"

Hermione trilled out a laugh, gazing at him with bemused affection and sentimentality. "Oh, Ronald..." He didn't know about the Muggle world as much as she and Harry did. She made a note to explain to him the significance of the former American President.

"Well, all the same... welcome back, Hermione."

"It's good to be back," she smiled. "Congratulations, I can't believe you solved it!"

"Well, we had loads of help from you!" Harry exalted, his grin full of praise.

Hermione practically floated in a lovesick tizzy over to the Gryffindor Table.


	4. Chapter 4: On Angel's Wings

**Chapter 4: On Angel's Wings**

She had always had a fear of flying. Even as a little girl, riding in airplanes had scared her, no matter how many times her parents reassured her. Yet here, on the back of a wild hippogriff and practically in Harry's arms, Hermione had never felt safer in her life.

They were riding fast and high to the Tower Dungeon on the Hogwarts grounds, Harry yelling over the wind to make himself heard.

"You were right, Hermione! It wasn't my dad that I saw - it was _me_! I knew I could do it, because I had already done it! Does that make sense?"

"No," Hermione cried, even as a grin took over her face. "And I - AHHHHHHH!" she gave a high-pitched scream as Buckbeak went into a steep dive. Harry didn't notice, whooping in daredevilish delight.

Hermione could feel Buckbeak's muscles flexing between her thighs, with each flap of his majestic wings. Her arms were around Harry's middle, her breasts pushed up against his rippling back muscles.

It happened quite suddenly. With a tiny whimper, Hermione suddenly felt her panties and jeans become soaked. At first, she thought she had wet herself in terror from how recklessly Buckbeak was flying. Until she realized... whatever was running down her legs didn't feel like urine.

The delirious thrill of being on a magical ride, in the embrace of a man she loved, had brought Hermione to her first orgasm. And she came down from her high in harmony with Buckbeak's descent to Earth.

To Hermione's immense relief, Harry didn't even notice.


	5. Chapter 5: First Domino Falls

**Chapter 5: First Domino Falls**

Safe in the knowledge that she had a date (and with the boosted confidence that he was the Durmstrang champion), Hermione watched with amusement as Hogwarts got ready for the Yule Ball.

And as Harry and Ron grew more and more panicked to find a date.

She had to laugh quietly to herself, but nevertheless feel sorry for their bad luck, as Harry encountered a problem with Cho: somebody else had beaten the Chosen One to the punch. Hermione wasn't sure, but she suspected the culprit was Cedric Diggory. Ron, meanwhile, had impulsively asked Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion to the Ball, her refusal leaving him almost shell-shocked. It made Hermione feel disappointed, as she would gladly help either one of them if she could - though she would never admit this to anyone but herself, she had been deeply hurt that neither Harry nor Ron had thought to ask her before Viktor did. She had been secretly hoping that one of them would take her to the Ball. Hell, she would readily go with both of them, if only the rules allowed it. But protocol was complicated enough as it was, with Harry being a champion and all. The Boy Who Lived couldn't very well go stag; he _had_ to find a date.

Now, the three friends were deep in an examination for Professor Snape. No talking was allowed - a rule that Snape enforced strictly. But after the boys watched Fred Weasley ask Angelina Johnson to the Ball via creative pantomime, Ron had had enough.

"Oi, Hermione - you're a girl," he pointed out.

"Very well spotted," Hermione took no pains to hide her annoyance at what she was sure was a clumsy way of asking -

"Come with one of us?" Ron didn't have the smooth moves of his brother, even as he tried to imitate them, which caught the notice of Snape so that he physically forced Harry and Ron's heads back towards their papers. Even so, Ron kept up the pressure. "Come on. It's one thing for a bloke to go alone. For a girl, it's just sad."

His assumption on multiple fronts sent Hermione's blood boiling, and even though she had been planning to keep her attendance a secret from her two best friends, wanting to surprise them there, she snarled out, "I won't be going alone, because, believe it or not, someone's _asked_ me!" Slamming her exam book closed, she got up and turned it into Snape. Coming back to retrieve her satchel, she hissed out as a parting shot, " _And I said_ _ **Yes**_!"

Watching Hermione exit in a huff, Ron looked visibly shaken. "Bloody hell! She's lying, right?"

"If you say so," Harry sighed with a shrug. He wasn't about to admit that, in this latest Ron-Hermione spat with him serving in the standard role of supposedly impartial referee, Hermione had won. Handidly.

* * *

Harry twisted uncomfortably against his itchy dress robes, as he waited with his date, Pavarti Patil, for the Champions to enter the Great Hall and begin the first dance of the Yule Ball. Across the way, he could see Cho Chang, his crush, with her partner - fellow Champion Cedric Diggory. Beside him, Harry sensed Pavarti shift, heard her suddenly gasp.

"She looks beautiful!"

"Yeah, she does," Harry murmured, thinking she was talking about Cho. But then, a strange premonition came over him. He could always sense when she was near - a talent honed across years of friendship. Harry found himself turning around, following Pavarti's gaze to the top of the staircase where -

Hermione Granger came down, looking like a fairy princess in a bright pink gown. Her hair was sleek and shiny instead of its usual, adorable bushy, pulled back in a bun to reveal a stunning, beautiful face.

For some odd reason, Harry felt his heart begin to speed up, and a knot formed in the pit of his stomach. Cho was cast aside to the very periphery of his mind, and he only vaguely remembered that she was still standing a ways off.

Hermione's deep brown eyes finally met his. She gave him a small, gentle smile - just a small upturn of her rosy lips - that made Harry feel as though he had been Levitated off the ground.

Then, Hermione paused, her attention redirected to the man in Bulgarian robes, who stooped to kiss her hand.

In that instant, Harry could feel his entire expression change, his facial features collapsing in on themselves as his jaw clenched and his mouth drew into a hard line. It was bad enough having to watch Cedric Diggory flaunt himself all over the place, but now... Viktor Krum? Viktor Krum was Hermione's date? It was quite a shame, really, Harry had always liked Krum. Well, up until five seconds ago. Wait... why was he feeling this way? _What_ was he feeling? It was just Hermione. _Still, if he hurts her..._

And one more thought: why hadn't he, Harry, asked Hermione to the Ball?

Hermione glided past everyone's amazed expressions on Viktor's arm, giving a shy wave, the elation on her face palpable. She seemed unable to believe it herself, that she was a Champion's date.

Harry didn't have time to come up with an answer for his confusing feelings about his best mate, for just then, McGonagall ushered the Champions and their partners in. In the crowd, Harry found poor Ron, only to discover that he appeared downright murderous, his glare directed right at the back of Viktor Krum's head.

* * *

It had been one of the most magical nights of Hermione's life. Viktor Krum had danced with her all evening, complimenting her every five minutes on how beautiful she looked. Her only complaint was that he had kept mispronouncing her name, but being a foreigner as he was, she could not blame him that much.

It was late, and they were only a few pockets of students still dancing or otherwise milling about; most of the guests had already retired to bed. Hermione thought she had seen Harry leave, but she wasn't sure about Ron, and she found herself glancing around for him as Viktor escorted her out of the Great Hall.

"Hermy-own?"

"Yes?" Hermione had scarcely turned herself in his direction when she felt a warm pressure against her lips. It lasted for just a second before springing away, and Hermione realized with a start, that Viktor Krum had just kissed her. Her first kiss!

Viktor gazed at her, looking the most bashful and unsure of himself that she had even seen him. "Goodnight."

Hermione slowly licked her lips. Suddenly inspired, and deeply curious (perhaps it was the fruit punch from earlier in the night), she suddenly clasped Viktor's face in her hands and pressed her lips firmly to his. She held the kiss for four, maybe five seconds before jerking away, turning a faint shade of pink.

"Good night, Viktor," she whispered. Viktor beamed, and took her hand, kissing her palm, then another peck to her cheek before walking away. Hermione turned for the staircase. Right at the landing, she stopped short, her heart freezing. For there was Ron, suddenly, his face stony as he glared past her towards a disappearing Viktor Krum.

"The creepy little bleeder! Does he not realize you're only fourteen? He shouldn't be preying on you like that!"

Hermione huffed, falling almost involuntarily into step beside him as they climbed the steps to the Gryffindor portrait hole. "Ron, he was just wishing me good night!"

"Yeah, and probably wishing for a whole lot more!" Ron grumbled.

"Oh, get your mind out of the gutter!" Hermione scoffed. "He wouldn't do that!"

"How do _you_ know?" Ron goggled, and he actually looked afraid. "He's way too old for you!"

Hermione's jaw dropped. " _What_? _What_ , is that what you think?" She nearly tripped on the stair.

"Yeah, that's what I think," Ron said simply. "Excuse me for being concerned for my best mate!"

Oh, this was _more_ than just concern, and the possibility made Hermione's heart alight with hope. But she couldn't confront him about it, at least not directly, and not while they both were so hot and bothered.

"You know the solution, then, don't know?" Hermione stalked after Ron onto the third floor landing.

"Go on."

"Next time there's a ball, pluck up the courage and ask me before somebody else does... and _not_ as a last resort!"

Ron seemed shaken by that one, cut to the quick, but in a display of how adept he had become at verbally sparring with her, he changed the subject - sort of. "Did you kiss him?"

"So what if I did?" Hermione glowered.

"Answer the bloody question, Hermione! Did you kiss him: Yes or No? He kissed you - on the hand! I saw!"

 _Thank Merlin you didn't see him about a minute before that_ , Hermione thought. This was how Ron could get inside her head - thinking back to her snog with Viktor, the memory was suddenly tarnished; she now felt strangely unfaithful. She could never lie to her best friend, so all at once, she blasted out, "YES! I kissed him! You happy?"

Ron steamed. "No." A slight pause.

Hermione huffed. "Honestly, Ron, it wasn't even that serious!"

"Oh, really? What was it, then?"

She wasn't exactly sure what made her do it. In that moment, Hermione suddenly grabbed Ron's face and smashed her lips against his in a five-second peck on the mouth.

Well, it would have very easily turned into more than five seconds (and more than a peck) if Hermione hadn't sprung away, still angry.

"There! That's all it was, in case you were wondering! A meaningless peck!"

Ron's absolutely dazed expression made Hermione realize what she had done. She was stunned, astonished at how she had forgotten herself. Nervously, her eyes raised back to Ron's face, forcing herself to meet his gaze from where she had needed to glance away, so he wouldn't see her turn a Gryffindor shade of red.

"Ron...?"

He was suddenly much too close, she could count every single one of his adorable freckles...

"Was... _that_... a meaningless peck?" And Hermione instinctively knew he wasn't talking about the kiss with Viktor. She felt her eyelids grow heavy, her breathing become ragged. She could now feel Ron's warm breath tickling her face, he was so close.

"N...No..." Hermione croaked out in a whisper. And then Ron closed the gap.

Fireworks. Choirs of angels exalted in her brain in that final moment before it seemed to shut down completely. As Ron's mouth softly conquered her own, Hermione felt her eyes flutter shut triumphantly. She melted, her arms flinging about Ron's neck as she swooned, and she felt him catch her. His gentle embrace, the feel of his lips on hers (he tasted like cinnamon) made her pathetically groan into his mouth. "Mmmmmmmmmmm..." She had waited and dreamed for this day since they were children, and here it was, at last! And it was better than her wildest fantasies.

Hermione was only somewhat aware as Ron's big, strong hands, lightly gripping her waist, began to wander lower. His paw of a hand cupped her ass through the skirts of her gown, his digits sinking in, and she wriggled a little in surprise and pleasure.

"Hmmm... Ron..."

In the next instant, Hermione Granger forgot herself once again. In a brazen display that the normal Hermione would have frowned upon, Hermione snapped out a palm to cup Ron between his legs, grasping his length through his trousers. Another fluid motion, and Hermione had suddenly raised her leg to Ron's torso, hooking her thigh about his middle so that her one slipper came off. _Just like Cinderella_ , Hermione thought dreamily. Except Cinderella had never gone _this_ far.

Hermione deepened the kiss, digging her mouth into Ron's so that her tongue soon danced its way into his mouth.

After several minutes of openly and heatedly kissing, Ron and Hermione came up for air. Ron looked like a Bludger had just fallen out of the sky and clocked him in the head.

"Blimey! Krum better not have snogged you like that!"

Hermione couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. "Never."

"Ruddy better not have," Ron growled, grinning far too smugly for her liking.

She placed a finger against his flushed lips. "Sssssh..." she whispered. And then, remembering that they were in a very compromising position, she disentangled herself from him. But she held Ron's gaze, willing her thoughts to communicate what she still couldn't put into words. "Are we...?"

Ron beamed. "I'd bloody like to try!"

Hermione grinned, giddy. "Took you long enough! I've been waiting for you to ask since we met."

And leaving him with that astonishing piece of news, she turned and practically flew back into the Common Room.


	6. Chapter 6: Third Slice of the Pie

**Chapter 6: The Third Slice of the Pie**

From then on, Ron and Hermione entered a romantic relationship. At first, they only told a shocked Harry, who quickly gave the couple his blessing. But the word quickly spread throughout the whole of their year, and eventually the school.

The Triwizard Tournament ended in darkness, and the whole of fifth year, Hogwarts felt more like a prison than an academic institution. Dolores Umbridge's machinations forced Harry to teach his friends Defense Against the Dark Arts himself, in a group called Dumbledore's Army. In that time, he had his first heartbreak, finally getting his first kiss from Cho. Though Harry surmised it had been more out of pity and grieving for a deceased Cedric Diggory than anything else.

"We should be so fortunate, love, that our first kisses were better," Ron observed her to his girlfriend one night, after Harry had gone up to bed alone following his recollections of his kiss with Cho.

"Yes," Hermione smiled. "Your kiss _was_ better." Ron blinked for a moment as he regarded her, and she just shrugged. "I don't really count Viktor's so much anymore."

"Good," Ron smirked. "I'm a jealous tosser, you know." And Hermione was heartened to see him take to the stairs of the boys' dormitory with a spring in his step.

As sixth year began, Ron and Hermione observed that Harry's infatuations turned towards a surprising new idol: Ginny Weasley, Ron's little sister. Hermione was the first one to notice it, and it made her heart break and seethe all at once. _I've only been standing by his side for how long?!_ Her barely hidden jealousy, combined with Ron's protective anger once he got wind of it, made for lively conversations before bedtime.

"She's my baby sister! Does he not have any respect for the fact that I'm his best mate?" Ron fumed to his lover one evening, as they cuddled alone by the fire.

"I know, darling. I, for one, think Ginny's not right for him." Encouraged, Ron waited for her to elaborate, probably expecting some classically detailed litany of reasons why, but Hermione refrained. If Ron - hell, _anyone_ \- knew the real reason...

An idea suddenly came into her head. "I think we need to distract him! Make Harry jealous!"

"How?" Ron frowned. "He doesn't have any problems with us being together - how could we possibly make him jealous?"

"Leave that to me!" Hermione insisted, now invigorated. "But first, tell me: do you trust me?"

"You know I do. Always," Ron nodded.

"Good." And she gave him a long, lingering kiss. "I love you," she sighed.

* * *

As fall continued apace, Harry prepared to formulate his Gryffindor Quidditch team, of which he had been appointed Captain. Ron, Ginny and a horde of other Gryffindors, tried out for the roster. Hermione dutifully waited in the stands to cheer her boys on.

Ginny clinched the role of a Chaser quite easily. Ron's battle for Keeper was more of a nail biter, as he barely won the spot over a brash, new prospective named Cormac McLaggen. Hermione noticed him at one instance look in her direction, and even point at her, during a conversation with Harry before try-outs. She inwardly smiled. _Perfect_.

"Say, you think you could introduce me to your friend, Granger?" Cormac was asking Harry. "Wouldn't mind getting on a first-name basis, know what I mean?"

Unprompted, a little green monster flared up in Harry's stomach. _What the bloody hell does he think he's playing at, checking out my best mate like that?_ It was with great relief that Ron denied the bugger the top spot, and Harry could not keep from smirking as a dejected McLaggen stomped off the field.

* * *

But Cormac McLaggen was the least of Harry's problems. Dumbledore had been requesting more and more private lessons about Horcruxes with him, forcing Harry to miss some Quidditch practices and even some games. Ginny would take over Captaining duties in his stead. Walking back from one such lesson late one night, Harry rounded the corner onto a sickening sight:

Hermione was pushed up against the far wall, furiously making out with a clearly ecstatic Cormac McLaggen. Her arms were rummaging frantically along his back, and she was purring like a kitten. "Hmmm... Mmmm..."

Hot, fiery rage launched itself up behind Harry's irises, so that his vision became spotty. The green monster in his chest spewed bile halfway up his throat.

BANG! Harry's wand appeared in his hand and went off without his brain telling it to. Cormac now lay sprawled on the floor, shuddering from a well-placed Bat Bogey Hex and gazing up at Harry in disbelief.

"Next time, I'll be more... Unforgivable," Harry snarled. Cormac's eyes widened, getting Harry's meaning, as he scrambled up and scampered away.

Hermione was glaring at Harry, but the expression didn't quite reach up to her eyes, her gaze strangely unreadable. However, in the next second, whatever secrets those eyes held were hidden, as Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously and she turned away to flounce prissily up the stairs.

"OI! What the bloody hell was that? Look at me when I'm bloody talking to you, Hermione _Jean_ Granger!"

The utterance of her full name - something that only Harry and Ron knew - made Hermione wheel around.

" _Right_ ," she snarled, flipping her long, bushy brown hair out of her face. "Let's get this straight: it's none of your business who I go out with or who I snog, Harry..."

"Actually, I think it bloody well is my business, and I'm sure your boyfriend would agree!" Harry fumed. "Does Ron know about this?"

"Yes," Hermione said simply, flippantly, and it was only partially a lie. Harry blinked, thrown by the answer, but Hermione moved on before he could press her on the issue. "And anyway, why do you care? You've never had a problem when I have gone out with Ron!"

"Because he's our best mate, and a real man, unlike that worm!" Harry spat. Hermione barely refrained from smirking in approval at his dig. For one mad moment, Harry imagined himself pressing Hermione up against a wall and kissing her senseless, in an even more deserted corridor and with Cormac mother _fucking_ McLaggen nowhere in sight... "At least I have standards!"

Hermione screamed with derisive laughter. "Been kissing Cho, have you? Or do you have a picture of your Aunt Petunia stashed under your pillow?"

Harry spluttered in fury. "You... you..."

"Ron has snogged me!" Hermione suddenly screeched, sounding oddly close to tears - in fact, she was blinking back moisture. "And I kissed Viktor Krum! It's only you who thinks it's something disgusting, Harry, and that's because you have about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!" And she fled to the portrait hole, actually letting a tiny sob past her throat, leaving Harry staring befuddled after her.

* * *

Harry couldn't concentrate over the next several days. Not even in his lessons with Professor Dumbledore. He hardly blinked when he once walked in on Ginny Weasley kissing Dean Thomas in an empty classroom. Sacrificing Quidditch only dampened his mood, and he watched from his dormitory alone as Ron and the others finished out the season, advancing to the Final against Slytherin.

All the while, Harry found the little green monster still messing with him and his thoughts whenever Hermione so much as came into his line of vision. Disturbingly, the sensations now reared their ugly heads even when Harry saw Ron and Hermione kissing or holding hands. That never used to happen before. Harry found himself getting physically ill whenever he thought about her; Hermione haunted his dreams, two diametrically opposed voices - one belonging to the little green monster and the other to his rational brain - going to war in his head.

 _She's Ron's girlfriend..._

 _I'm her best mate!_

Snape giving him a detention that forced Harry to miss the Quidditch Final was the last nail in the coffin. Harry walked back to the Common Room hours after the game ended, unsure who had triumphed and who had fallen. "Quid agis," he barely remembered to say to the Fat Lady.

She smirked at him, saying only, "You'll see," and swung back.

A roar of celebration erupted from the hole behind her. Harry gaped as people began to scream at the sight of him; several hands pulled him into the room.

"We won!" yelled Ron, bounding into sight and brandishing the Silver Cup at Harry. "We won! Four hundred and fifty to one hundred and forty! We won!"

Harry looked around; there was Hermione running towards him; she had a hard, blazing look in her face as she threw her arms around him. There was no greater sight than the one Harry held in his eyes right then - Hermione's smile. It was a smile that he hoped he would look at for the rest of his life. And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that fifty people were watching, Harry tilted Hermione's chin up in his hands, bent and kissed her full on the mouth.

* * *

Hermione gasped sharply, as Harry kissed her in a way that knocked the breath out of her lungs. She let out something between a whimper and a squeak of surprise, her lips parting so that Harry's tongue quickly plunged down her throat.

And then, in the next instant, she was _moaning_ , humming, as her fingers dug into the back of Harry's shirt, keeping one hand there while her twin disappeared into Harry's gnarly black hair, and she _tugged_ , winding her limbs about him tighter still, as she snogged him with utter abandon.

She had been wrong, in a sense, and in her entire life, Hermione had never been more happy to be wrong: Harry was a _very_ good kisser, just as accomplished as Ron, if not more so. Hermione dug her lips firmly into Harry's and she sighed in contentment. "Hmmmmm... Mmmmm..." Her eyes closed shut with finality, as she fell in love all over again. She poured six years of bottled up love into the kiss as she silently assured Harry: _Yes, yes, this is more than all right. Yes, yes, you can kiss me..._

After maybe an hour, or several sunlit days, they broke apart. Immediately, Hermione's eyes sought out Ron's in the crowd. Unable to put a finger on why or what it might mean, Harry followed her gaze.

Naturally, Ron was as shocked as everyone else in Gryffindor. His friends could practically see the gears turning in his head, until they finally clicked into place, and he simply shrugged. _Well, if you must, you must._

The little creature in his chest roaring in triumph, Harry grinned down at Hermione, and she weakly smiled back, clearly flushed and nervous.

"Hermione?"

"Y... yes?" she asked sweetly.

"Can I kiss you again?"

She smirked. " _May_ I kiss you again?" her tone school-marmish. "Yes, you... Mmmm..." Harry cut her off with a dizzying kiss, shutting her up. They had so much time to talk. Right now, just being in each other's arms was enough.

* * *

Even so, Hermione felt the need to finally confess her love to the two men she had fallen for as a little girl. She also apologized to both of them for her actions with Cormac, explaining to Harry how she had only wanted to make him jealous.

"I love you both - _so much_ ," she sighed. "I could never, _never_ choose between the two of you... so I thought I might as well have both of you!" Her breathless proposal that they enter a polyamorous relationship went over better than she could have ever expected with her boys, as Harry laughed.

"You greedy, greedy little minx!"

"Hermione, you are a philosopher, and a lady!" Ron praised.


	7. Chapter 7: In Whatever Time We Have

**Chapter 7: In Whatever Time We Have**

Falling more deeply in love gave great comfort to Harry, Ron and Hermione in the weeks ahead. It was the happiest of draughts that drowned out the scandalized whispers and rumors about the Golden Trio spreading throughout the school. Besides, such childish and silly things were tea and cakes compared to the evil that now was unleashed.

Death Eaters attacked the castle itself late one night, killing Albus Dumbledore in a brazen assault. The whole school held a fine funeral for him, and the Golden Trio parted at the Burrow. Hermione couldn't bear to send her one love back to his horrid relatives, but Harry sent kisses into her hair and reassured her he would be OK, and they would be together again at the end of the summer.

"How can you be sure?" Hermione whimpered, and from the fretful look in her eyes, Harry knew she was talking about well beyond the summer.

"This is true love. You think this happens every day?" He sent her that daring smirk that still made her stomach do flip flops, kissed her gently one last time, and turned to Disapparate for Privet Drive.

Hermione and Ron held each other in his bed all night those next few nights, and wrote each other constantly after Hermione returned to her parents. In his voice and in his letters, Hermione sensed in Ron a growing fear and concern for their better third. When the day arrived for them to collect Harry from his aunt and uncle's, neither Ron nor Hermione could get there fast enough, spiriting him back to the Burrow.

Not long after, Death Eaters descended onto Bill and Fleur's wedding, forcing the Golden Trio to embark on their Hunt for the Horcruxes a little earlier than planned. The Trio traveled like nomads, taking shelter in Sirius's old abode at Grimmauld Place, then a tent in the wilderness. In the bed the three shared, Hermione would kiss and pet her men heavily, drawing comfort from them. None of them ever went all the way ("I want to save myself for marriage," Hermione had whispered to Ron one night). At night, as the three held each other, Hermione would ask more than once:

"What's going to happen to us?"

On this particular evening, Ron leaned over her and made a promise. "We'll be together in whatever time we have."

"And after that?" Hermione whispered.

"We have forever," Harry swore. And then, so quickly that Hermione at first thought she might have just imagined it, he reached up and placed a gentle kiss on Ron's lips.

Ron held the kiss for a moment, taken aback, but... _pleased_ too. Then the two shared awkward smiles. They figured they were safe in this. After all, they had always been safe in their little trio.

Sighing in contentment, Hermione snuggled closer to her boys, and fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8: Together Forever

**Chapter 8: Together Forever**

The war was over. Voldemort was finally dead in the ground. Glancing about at the decay and destruction around her, Hermione felt lucky to be alive. In her one hand, she clasped Harry Potter - the savior and hero of their world who had come back from the dead itself to save them all. In the other, she held Ron - the man who had rushed a room full of Death Eaters to save her from torture at Malfoy Manor.

"What happens now?" she murmured. She watched Harry and Ron look at each other.

"The rest of our lives, so long as it's with you," Harry's voice tickled her ears.

Hermione gasped, a hand flying to her mouth as Harry and Ron both unexpectedly kneeled before her.

"Hermione Jean Granger, we're in love with you..." Harry began.

"Though let the record show, I was in love with you first," Ron interrupted.

"Shut it!" Harry smirked. "Stick to the script!"

"... and if you'll have us, would you do us the honor of becoming our wife?" Ron picked up.

Hermione had never expected for her lovers to propose. She had imagined just living with them for the rest of her days, content in the knowledge that she was spoken for and that she already felt married to them in her heart. But... since they had asked... and she was so relieved that they were all still alive...

Blinking back tears, she nodded frantically. "Yes, I will," she whispered.

* * *

The ceremony was held on a sunlit day, down by the Black Lake, just in front of the grove of trees that sheltered Dumbledore's grave. Hermione was moved to weeping tears when Molly Weasley presented her with her old wedding dress as the Something Borrowed, confessing that she loved Hermione as another daughter and that she knew the young witch would take excellent care of her youngest son.

Donned in the simple white bridal gown, the setting sun casting her in an ethereal glow, Hermione glided down the aisle on Kingsley Shacklebolt's arm, beaming with anticipation as she saw Harry and Ron standing there waiting for her in their dress robes. Despite how much he wished it, Ron had never been able to outgrow or otherwise get rid of those hand-me-downs from his Great Aunt Tessie...

Hermione took their hands... looked deep into their eyes... and when the minister asked her if she would take Harry James Potter and Ronald Bilius Weasley as her lawfully wedded husbands, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as they all should live, she answered simply:

"I do."

The Trio exchanged their own vows, and rings (Hermione was startled to find that Harry's gift to her was the former Horcrux ring of Voldemort, purged of all darkness and carefully stitched back together) and as they pledged their lives and love to each other, Hermione assured herself that they were doing the right thing.

 _We'll make it work. I love them._

Then Harry lifted the veil and kissed her, and she had no more doubts. And when Ron gave her their wedding kiss, she surrendered completely. There was only Harry and Ron, and the scent of the dying roses on the hillside below.

* * *

"Huhhhhh... Uhhhhhhh... Uhhmmmmmmm..."

The bed creaked and swayed just short of dangerously as Harry rocked and thrust into the womanhood of his new bride. Hermione lay beneath him, canting her hips up to maintain the friction against his, sweat gathering on her brow as her knuckles turned white from clenching the bedsheets in her fists. Nestled under her, Ron slammed up into her, and her arse cheeks squeezed, keeping him pinned there.

"Oh... oh my goodness... oh - _OH_! Godric, loves, I'm so close... don't stop... _don't stop_..." Her speech slurred, and she swooned, nearly sobbing deliriously at the pleasure and warmth that was building up deep inside of her. At long last, with a manly grunt, Harry spilt all he had into her. Ron growled at losing the competition and thrust faster, until a minute later, with a roar, he followed.

The three of them lay perspiring, panting, wrapped in each other's arms, their limbs tangled.

"I... I love you," Hermione choked through a happy sob, stroking the stubble on Harry's cheek. She always secretly hated it when he shaved too early for her liking. Turning her head, she pressed a kiss, then another, into Ron's chest. Her eyes rolling into the back of her head, she fell asleep in her marriage bed, the union she had always pined for consummated.


	9. Chapter 9: And Baby Makes Four

**Chapter 9: And Baby Makes Four**

The bile was hot and sticky as Hermione sent it spewing forth into the toilet. The sound of the splash as it landed in the bowl made her wince, and she felt grateful that it wouldn't get into her bushy brown locks. Seated Indian-style beside her, Harry held her hair back, quietly running his gentle fingers along her spine in just the right way, so that Hermione felt her toes curl against the cool bathroom tiles.

"You keep touching me like that, and I won't be able to keep my hands off you," Hermione mused in between bouts, turning to smile sheepishly back at her one husband. "Though I know I'm not much of a turn-on right now -"

"You're beautiful," Harry murmured firmly.

Another round of throw-up. "Th... Thanks for staying home to take care of me, love."

"I'll never neglect my vows, Hermione - _'in sickness and in health'_ , remember?"

She beamed. "I remember." Just over two years of marriage, and those looks he sent her could still make her feel wet and weak in the knees.

There was a sudden _"yip!"_ as Ron's Terrier Patronus appeared in their bathroom.

"How is she?" the Terrier asked in Ron's voice.

"I think this is the last of it; I'll make sure she lies down," Harry promised. "See you tonight after work, darling."

"Ron, I love you, honey!" Hermione called. The Patronus winked out.

Following the war, Harry had entered the Auror Training program, and was eventually accepted as an apprentice to Daedalus Diggle. Following his brother Fred's death in the Battle of Hogwarts, Ron helped George manage the Weasley joke shop. Hermione was the only one of the Trio to return to school and take her N.E.W.T.S., eventually accepting a position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. When she wasn't working, she lovingly served as wife to her beloved husbands.

When another bout of sludge failed to appear, Hermione rose from the bathroom floor, washed out her face and mouth, kissed Harry softly in appreciation and went to lie down in the bed they shared. Pausing in front of her vanity mirror, she frowned as she turned her body this way and that, trying to figure out what was wrong with her. All at once -

She felt something move. Inside of her. Breathing in sharply, Hermione felt her hands come to rest over her belly, which she now caressed with an instinctual care. _There is life with me_ , she rejoiced. _I am with child_. She could feel it in her bones.

Ever since their wedding, she and her boys had desperately yearned for a baby, making love enthusiastically and often in their efforts to conceive. It had always been Hermione's dream to mother a child from each of her lovers, then a third that shared all three of its parents' genes. Muggle science had recently proven the possibility of conceiving a fetus with DNA from three parents. And with magic on the Golden Trio's side...

Now, Hermione's final dream, her dearest wish, had come true. She would be the mother of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley's children. Their child lay nestled within her. A giddy smile on her face, she flung herself across the coverlet and fell into a blissful sleep.

* * *

Well-rested by that evening, Hermione cooked dinner, with Harry doing whatever he could to help. Though she could feel his love and lingering concern for her radiating off him in waves, Hermione did her best to ease his worry, as they giggled and flirted. Ever since she and Harry had fallen in love, romantic affection had developed naturally between them, until it felt normal. Hermione was just snogging Harry senseless when the key in the lock turned and her other husband stepped into the house.

"OI! What are you, schoolchildren? Get a room, you two!" Ron bellowed. But his eyes were twinkling.

Hermione broke the kiss with love in her eyes, turning her gaze to Ron so he didn't miss noticing that her irises were black with lust. "I only share my room and my bed with _two_ men!" she hissed with relish, her voice dramatic. Giggling, she took Ron's hand, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on his lips. "I have a surprise for you," she whispered, dragging her men over to the kitchen table.

"Surprise? I love surprises!" Ron chortled.

"Mate, let the lady speak!" Harry chuckled.

Her heart in her eyes, Hermione unexpectedly guided their joined hands to rest over her abdomen. "Baby is so excited to meet her Daddys," she cooed.

Ron about fell off his chair; beside him, Harry's hand pressed further into Hermione's stomach, his face alive with hope. "Are you really...?"

Beaming, Hermione nodded, her eyes shining with happy tears. "I'm pregnant. I did the spell after I woke up from my nap! It's a girl."

Harry let out a whoop.

"Bloody brilliant!" Ron crowed, picking Hermione up and twirling her around as she shrieked in delight. Kissing her deeply, Ron proceeded to bend Hermione back over the kitchen table. Hermione let him have her; she had always adored how Ron undressed her with his hands and his eyes. How he ravished her. In between their making love, peppering Hermione's face with kisses, Ron asked, "Whose is it?"

"Who cares?" Harry laughed, enjoying the free floor show.

Ron nearly rolled himself and his wife off the table as he paused in his fucking to ogle at his husband. " _Who cares_?! Are you saying you won't give a shit if it comes out looking like Vicky Krum?"

Gawking, Hermione gave a short little laugh as she swatted Ron's chest. " _Ronald_!" she scolded, half-stern, half-amused.

"Ron, I know bloody well we're the only ones who could have knocked her up! But this isn't a race! We're all going to be a family, no matter who the baby's father is!"

Hermione spun about happily and kissed Harry's lips, then his scar. "We're going to have a baby."

The men looked at each other. "We're going to have a baby."

* * *

Ron didn't mind swapping places with Hermione in the double bed. As her stomach grew steadily rounder, she had to take an open side of the mattress, preferably closest to the bathroom so she could get to the loo faster. When she wasn't making all-hour runs to pee, Hermione and her husbands spent their nights talking and making plans for their baby. Being a visually-minded person, Harry took copious notes about what Hermione wanted and what they would have to do once the baby was born. The documentation helped, because Merlin knew that anything Hermione said went in Ron's one ear and out the other.

"I know that I want to breastfeed..." Hermione rattled off happily. "I'll only pump when I absolutely have to..." She suddenly sat upright in bed, clutching her womb. "Oooh..."

Ron propped himself up on one elbow. "Are you all right, my love?"

"Mm-hmm," Hermione nodded as she stood, the blanket that covered her nakedness falling away (she and her husbands had been very liberal in their lovemaking) to reveal the swell of her stomach. Bathed in the moonlight from the window, she looked breathtaking.

"You look like an angel," Harry breathed.

"You're sweet," Hermione beamed, rubbing a hand along her womb. She hissed tightly through her teeth. "She keeps kicking Mommy's bladder..."

Ron chuckled. "Then get to the toilet, darling, before she ruptures it!"

"Must you always make crass jokes?" Harry groaned, flopping back into the sheets and throwing an arm over his face.

"Course. You both love me anyway!"

Hermione threw a pillow at Ron.

* * *

"Come on, Hermione, just a little more!" coaxed the Healer by her feet.

"I can't!"

"Yes, you _can_ ," Harry encouraged. "Listen to the Healers - and here, take my hand before you break Ron's fingers."

"If I ever get out of this, I'm going to break more than your fingers," she swore, glaring up at the two men. "I'm going to break those parts that got me into this predicament in the first place."

Harry didn't miss a beat. "Fine - you can break us later. For now, though, you have to push."

Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes. "I _can't!_ " she wailed. "I'm so tired and I just can't." Her voice trailed off to an exhausted whimper.

Ron leaned over and pushed her sweaty hair from her face. "I know you are, love. But you're also the strongest woman I - _we_ \- know. You've never failed at anything you set out to do, and I know you can do this. This is our baby. In just a couple of minutes, you can see the baby we've all waited so long for, and we can be a real family together, the four of us. Remember how much we've looked forward to that?"

She nodded mutely.

"So, take a deep breath, listen to the Healers, and push like you've never pushed before. You can do it - you're almost there. And remember that Harry and I are here, and we love you."

"O - okay," she whispered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'll try."

"All ready now?" asked the Healer. Hermione nodded. "Right, then - on your next contraction - push!"

Hermione pushed.

"Excellent! Now take a deep breath, and do it again."

Hermione pushed.

"And one more time - it's almost out!"

She pushed once more, her face red with effort. The moment stretched to an eternity as the infant was eased out into the world, finally slipping into the hands of the Healer.

Hermione collapsed against the pillows, eyes closed, as the attending assistant announced, "It's a girl!"

Harry and Ron turned to each other, beaming. They were now two and two in the household - two boys, and two girls. Perfect.

"Hermione, did you hear that?" Ron bubbled, looking down at the woman who had made it all possible. "It's a little girl, just like you said! Just like we wanted!"

Hermione, tired but happy, took the little blue bundle in her arms and drew the baby to her breast. "Hi, Jo-Jo," she crooned. "We've been waiting to meet you..."

* * *

Hermione was released from the hospital the next day, and she and her boys threw themselves into the task of parenting a child together. Their child.

One afternoon, the Trio had sat down to watch TV. A Quidditch game was on, and Harry and Ron were placing small bets on the winner. Hermione was rocking Josephine.

Suddenly, the baby began to cry. Hermione tried to calm her, to no avail. Now, the three ran through the list of possible explanations.

"She's hungry?"

"Can't be, mate, we just had lunch."

"She's tired?"

"Honestly, Harry, her nap time isn't for another hour."

"Wait!" Ron suddenly realized. He flipped off the TV, the game now forgotten, and turned to Hermione. "Maybe she hasn't been….well, you know…" He started to pantomime around his bosom.

"Honestly, Ronald, it's OK to say the word 'breast-fed'," Hermione snapped in annoyance, while Harry roared with laughter at Ron's clumsy attempt at charades.

"Do I need to leave the room? Cause I will," Harry asked, recovering from his amusement.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before," Hermione chuckled wryly. "And it's not like I'm totally stripping down. We only need one, after all." She removed her top, and then unclasped her bra partially, so only one breast was revealed. Harry averted his eyes, anyway, out of respect. Secretly, Hermione thought it was sweet that he could be married to her, that they had _slept_ together, and he still acted like such a gentleman.

"All right," Ron continued. "Now, 'Mione, bring Josephine to your chest. She should latch on immediately, Mum says that's a primary instinct for a baby."

Hermione suddenly looked really nervous. "Will it hurt?" she almost whispered.

"I don't know, love. Probably a little this first time, I would imagine. But, after a few times, I reckon it'll feel normal."

Hermione slowly brought Josephine to her breast. As Ron predicted, the infant latched on immediately and began to suckle. Hermione winced in pain, but after a moment the pain began to fade and she relaxed. A smile spread across her face as she watched Josephine drink from her, depend on her, for sustenance.

"I'm a mother," she gasped breathlessly, almost in awe. Ron smiled softly.

"You're doing great, love." Then, he turned to his best friend. "Harry, seriously. You can look now. It's fine."

Both boys now watched with similar reverence as Hermione fed their baby.

* * *

 **A/N: The birthing sequence was borrowed (and slightly repurposed) from the beginning of a great Trio fic, called _Afterwards_. **


	10. Chapter 10: The Happy Ending

**Chapter 10: The Happy Ending**

On a Friday evening, Harry sat at the kitchen table with his daughter and his son waiting for the oven to heat up, and the various charmed bowls and jugs to finish their whisking, mixing and pouring. He ran his fingers through his son's fine reddish hair, smiling contently as he bounced his teddy bear up and down on the table, chattering to it as if it could talk back.

The curtains were half open, allowing the sunset to stream into the kitchen over the table and bounce off the pots and pans hanging above them. Harry stood up, walking over to the cooker and peering into the various bowls placed on the counters, placing his two rings away from the food so they wouldn't get dirty. He clapped his hands together.

"All done I think." Harry murmured under his breath, levitating the duck breasts off the counter and scoring the skin with slicing spells.

"What ya makin' for dinner, Daddy?" Josephine asked.

"Hot smoked teriyaki duck with pak choi and ginger." Harry said, who then began to spoon the marinade into a pan which immediately started to smoke and bubble.

Oliver's face contorted.

"But for you," Harry continued pulling an orange bag out from the fridge, "fish fingers!"

"Yay!" Oliver squealed, throwing his arms up into the air.

Harry's home in the tiny village of Godric's Hollow was of reasonable size and mixed both muggle and magical appliances, making all five of its occupants feel very much at home. And although the house was very indiscrete - tucked behind a few oak trees and towering hedges - it attracted a lot of attention from the press and local villagers.

Harry, in his older age, was more apathetic towards the attention, and was known to do the odd interview (which admittedly, did help to pay for redoing the guest room into a nursery when Josephine, and then Oliver, were born). Not that money was tight, but it became considerably less when the kids arrived (who the hell knew kids could be so expensive?).

"Daddy?" Josephine asked.

"Yes, love?"

"Mummy tells us this story at night before we go asleep."

"Oh?"

"But she's not been home lately for us going to bed so can you tell us it?" Oliver jumped in.

"I don't know the story, champ." Harry shouted over the sizzling duck which he'd just thrown into the pan.

"It's about the Princess and the two Princes Prince James and Prince Bilius… and they lived in the tower, and there was a big bad man who-"Josephine stumbled.

"Wanted to catch them?"

"Yes! Because they'd hid all his toys!" Oliver crowed.

Harry blinked. "His…. _toys_?"

"Yeah! Like he had a book –"

"And a cup!"

"and … um…." Harry realized his children were talking about the Horcruxes. While Hermione was pregnant, they had agreed not to tell any babies of theirs the true story of their last, most dangerous adventures until said children were older. With a wave of his hand he silenced Oliver's chattering and chuckled to himself. "His _toys_ , oh yes, I remember now."

"You _do_ know it!" Josephine gawked.

Harry laughed openly, flipping the duck breast over, "Well it sounds familiar. Did this Princess happen to have long brown curly hair and she was very, very smart? And Prince Bilius, was he good at chess?"

"Yes!" Oliver bounced up and down on his chair, knocking his teddy to the floor. "And Prince James, Mummy said, was very handsome because he had cool eyes."

"What…. What bit in the story are you at, champ?" Harry asked, his face noticeably redder as he wrapped the duck breasts in tin foil and pierced it with it wand.

"The bit where they're nearly finished big school and the big bad man has captured the Princess and Prince James and Bilius are very angry."

Sliding the duck into the oven, and his wand into his back pocket, Harry removed Oliver and Josephine's fish fingers and put them on a plate along with some chips.

"Ketchup!" Josephine ordered sitting up on his knees so he could see above the large wooden table better.

"Ah, ah, what's the magic word?"

"Alohomora!" both chorused.

"Close enough." Harry sighed putting a plate in front of each of them and handing his daughter a bottle of the tomato sauce.

"Well," Harry began, sitting opposite his son, "the big bad man -as your mother so descriptively put it- had captured the Princess and taken her away from the school, which made the Princes very, very angry. They were so angry that they left the safe school to go and find her and rescue her, which was very silly because as you know-"

"You should never leave home without telling, or Mummy will lose her head!" Oliver and Josephine recited.

"You've heard it before," Harry smiled, all three of them giggling as he went about cutting up their fish fingers, the steam rising up and fogging his glasses.

"So anyway," Harry continued, sitting back on his chair, "the Princes did find her but she was very, very hurt, like she had a large cut running down her forehead and across her eye, and-"

"Like Daddy's!"

"Kind of," Harry shrugged, "more like Uncle Remus's because hers would eventually disappear and as you both know, Daddy's can't."

Oliver nodded, munching on a chip smothered in ketchup.

"Anyway, this made the Princes really mad, and Prince James wanted revenge, you know what that is, right?"

Oliver nodded.

"Because they were both very protective of their Princess-"

"Mummy said they were in love."

"Oliver, don't interrupt!" Josephine scolded, sounding like a clone of her mother.

"Did she now?" Oliver nodded as Harry raised an eyebrow. "Well, yes. I suppose they were."

Oliver giggled and Josephine let out a dreamy sigh.

"Anyway, the big bad man had a lot of followers, who found the trio and took them to him, which was very scary because the Princes and Princess thought they were going to be hurt. But thankfully, one of the followers owed Prince James a favor because he had saved his life years before, and the man alerted the Princes and Princess's school and their followers and er … servants to come help them."

"Was he a bad man too?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I suppose, yes. But he helped them so they forgave him. Anyway, the army turned up and they helped the three fight the big bad man, lots of people got cuts and bruises -like you do when you play with Uncle Fred and George- but they were okay because they knew the big bad man couldn't win or there'd be chaos throughout the Kingdom."

"Did they win?" Josephine wanted to know.

"Of course, good always beats evil, you know that, love." Harry stared at his children's plates. They'd hardly eaten anything. "Aren't you lot hungry?"

"Nope, 'cause Aunt Ginny fed us squillions of sweets when we stayed at her house this morning.'

"Aunt Ginny is a naughty girl." Harry muttered, taking Oliver's plate, then its match from Josephine and scraping both of its contents into the bin. He could never fathom how he had once had a crush on his sister-in-law. Or thought he had. He had always been of the opinion that he had been projecting his desire for Hermione onto her.

"So what happened to the Prince and other Prince and Princess then?" Oliver sure was eager to hear the end of the tale.

"Well," Harry said, checking on the duck, "they got married because they wanted to be together forever and they needed each other, sort of like the way you always need Pooh Bear." Harry said, lifting the bear off the floor and handing it to his son. The bear had been given to Josephine when she was two weeks old and had since passed down to Oliver. The boy hadn't let it out of his sight since, much to his parents' annoyance, as the bear was ragged, frayed and rather smelly, and Oliver refused to allow them to wash it.

"They loved each other!" Oliver shouted, squishing his teddy bear to his chest.

"Yes they did," Harry smiled wryly, "they gave each other rings of platinum and gold, and had a big ceremony to say they'd be together forever and ever and lived together in a huge castle and ruled over the Kingdom from then on." He let out a long breath, having sprinted to the end of the story.

"They were happy?" Josephine pressed.

"Yup, very much so. Especially when the Princess had a baby Prince."

Josephine wrinkled her nose, something clearly on her mind. "Daddy, how are babies ma-"

"Ask your Grandma Weasley." Harry said quickly, not wanting to go down that path _just_ yet.

"Kay."

"So it's a happy ever after?" Oliver asked after a brief pause.

"Almost," Harry said, "though I think Prince James would like a baby of his own."

Oliver blinked.

"Er," Harry tried to choose his words very carefully, "well, their baby Prince looks more like Prince … Bilius than it does Prince James … and their baby Princess looks like Prince Bilius _and_ Prince James, and…. Prince James would like a baby who looks like him. Though, not that Prince James doesn't love the baby Prince and the baby Princess, because he does, very much so."

The front door opened and closed as Harry lifted the duck out of the oven and placed the pieces on top of some green vegetables, on three different plates, drizzling some of the sauce he'd used earlier on top.

"Oliver, Josephine, shouldn't you be in bed?" Hermione asked, slipping out of her shoes at the door, and hanging up her floor length black coat.

"Mummy!" the children yelled, running over to Hermione and jumping into her arms. In his exuberance, Oliver dropped Pooh Bear.

"Careful, my darlings," she grinned, picking them up both at once and hugging them, "Oh, you're getting too big for me to do that…. hi Harry." she smiled, walking over and kissing his cheek as he set the table.

"Hello, sweetheart, good day at work?"

"Oh yes and that smells wonderful, Harry."

"Thank you," he grinned, giving her a quick kiss back on the lips.

Ron followed, swooping into the kitchen and picking Pooh Bear up off the floor in one fluid motion.

"Daddy Ron!" Oliver squealed.

"Ollie-Bear!" Ron chuckled, putting Pooh Bear on the table and grabbing a knife and fork off the table and pretended to cut the bear up and eat it. "Yum!" Ron said, rubbing his stomach.

"Daddy's eating Pooh Bear!" Oliver shrieked, bouncing around in his mother's arms.

"Oh, well Daddy _is_ hungry," Hermione explained calmly.

"I'm going as fast as I can here, being the only one who can cook and all." Harry grumbled, earning a laugh from Ron.

"I can cook!" Hermione gawked, swinging around to furrow her brow at her one husband.

"And here's Jo-Jo!" Ron was chuckling, as his daughter scrambled up onto the chair beside him.

"How was your day?" Harry asked Ron.

"Alright," he shrugged, slipping off his green jumper and unhooking a necklace from around his neck. "Same old, same old, really." He slipped the two rings off the chain and put them on the third finger on his left hand.

"Yours?" Hermione asked Harry, shifting Oliver to her other hip.

"Fine, just cooked and cleaned up, like the good little housewife that I am."

"When you're on paid leave, anyway," Ron grumbled. When Harry had been seriously injured on an Auror mission a few weeks before, he and Hermione had been terrified.

The Trio laughed, Ron and Hermione both cooing their praises as they each stood on opposite sides of Harry and kissed his cheeks, sandwiching him, blushing, in the middle.

"Right, mister, I'm taking you and your sister and Pooh Bear up to bed, it's way past your bedtime." Hermione announced, grabbing Oliver's scruffy bear off the table. "Josephine, follow me, dear." Harry and Ron wished their children good night and promised they'd go up and kiss him sweet dreams after their dinner. Oliver yawned in assent and put his head on Hermione's shoulder. Though if he hadn't, he would had seen Ron and Harry share a passionate embrace, and a kiss that page three of the more liberal wizarding papers would pay a lot to photograph. It was a relief that Josephine didn't think to turn around.

As Hermione climbed the stairs to Josephine and Oliver's room, her son started chattering again, a habit Hermione figured he'd taken from her.

"Daddy Harry finished off your story for me today."

"Oh? I didn't know he knew it."

Oliver nodded against her shoulder, "He say-"

" _Said_ , my precious."

"Said that Prince Bilius and Prince James and the Princess beat the bad man with help from all of the Kingdom."

"That's right, they were very lucky, but then again they always had been."

Hermione walked into the children's room, and sat him on his blue bed, which had orange and yellow dragons embossed on the front. She took off his shoes, his clothes, and put on his Chudley Cannons pajamas and pulled the covers up to his chin, her silvery white and gold rings twinkling in the moonlight which was peering in through the open curtains. Turning around, she picked up Josephine with a grunt and lifted her into her pink bed.

"Said that the Princess was hurt." Oliver murmured.

Hermione felt her hand fly to the scar on her arm. "She was."

"And when they won, they got married."

"They did."

"And they had babies …" Oliver paused, as Hermione tucked Pooh Bear in beside him.

"Yes, they did, a Prince," Hermione's brown eyes were twinkling, "called Oliver."

Oliver gasped. "Mummy that's my name!"

"Oh! So it is!" Hermione said, her hand mock dramatically on her chest.

It was only then Oliver noticed his mother's two rings glittering at him, his mother's curly brown locks tied back and most importantly, a very faint scar over her left eye.

"You're the Princess!"

Hermione grinned in response.

"And Daddy Ron! He's Prince Bilius!"

Hermione nodded.

"And Daddy Harry is Prince James! Mummy, _Mummy_!" Oliver said eagerly. "That means it's really Daddy _Harry_ who wants the baby who looks like him!"

"Oliver! Don't be a tattle-tale!" Josephine harrumphed from her bed, though she already sounded half-asleep.

Hermione's brow creased. "What do you mean, precious?"

"Well, Daddy Harry told me today that Prince James was really happy but he wished sometimes he had a baby that looked like him instead of Prince Bilius."

Hermione gasped, her mouth going into an 'o' shape. It was a long time before she spoke next.

"Well," She said, biting her lip, after a long pause, "Oliver, I've got a secret to tell you if you promise not to tell Daddy Ron or Daddy Harry, at least for a little bit until Mummy is sure."

Oliver nodded eagerly sitting up on his bed. Hermione took his tiny hand in hers, and moved it so it was pressed against her belly. She then whispered so quietly Oliver nearly didn't hear her.

" _Prince James may get his wish_."

Oliver smiled sleepily, looking up into his mother's deep brown eyes which were an exact replica of his own.

"Happy ever after," he yawned, falling back onto his pillow as his mother ran her own finger's across her tummy.

Hermione nodded. "Happy ever after," she echoed. Kissing him on the forehead, she turned out the light and slowly closed the door behind her. Then she padded downstairs to the kitchen.

Harry was sitting at the table reading the paper, brow furrowed and gaze solemn in concentration, his glasses pushed down to the bridge of his nose in that way that Hermione had always found quite sexy. Ron was at the sink, cleaning off two plates of the duck teriyaki; a third sat untouched at the head of the table. Sidling up beside her husband at the sink, Ron ghosted a soft kiss over her lips.

"Kids asleep?" he hummed low.

"Mm-hmm," she nodded.

"In that case, I can warm up your plate if you want, love. Heating Spell."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you," she murmured, pecking his lips chastely in return.

"'Mione, tell him to use the microwave. It's quicker," Harry rumbled, only half-listening to the conversation.

"Pah! Wanna bet?" Ron's eyes gleamed, but Harry was no longer paying attention. Hermione's focus shifted to her other husband. Striding over to him, she swung one leg across his chair so that she straddled his lap.

"Hermione..." Harry whimpered, nervous and a little confused.

"Ssssh... don't speak." Hermione brushed a finger along his lips. Then she replaced it with her own mouth. Her tongue quickly sought entrance, and she tickled it along his bottom teeth. Her fingers wove into Harry's hair, and she felt him kiss her back. After a few more deep kisses, Hermione began to peck her way down his jawline, stopping at his chin. She now ran her digits along Harry's stubble almost contemplatively. Then, she asked:

"Do you really want me to have your baby?"

Harry's mouth fell open, and he blushed as red as his husband's hair. Behind them, she heard a clatter as Ron dropped one of the just-dried plates into the sink.

"I... I... er..." When he finally found his voice, Harry let out a sheepish chuckle. "That little chatterbox! He got his Daddy's eyes and his Mummy's mouth..." He cleared his throat at his wife's expectant gaze. "Yes. But only if you want to!" He added the qualifier in a rush.

Hermione beamed. "I do, Harry. I want to bear your child." She brought Harry's hand to her abdomen, which looked flat and normal. But then, like before with her son, she leaned against Harry to whisper in his ear, " _And it may happen sooner than you think_."

Harry's eyes widened, but he said nothing at first, allowing Hermione to rise gracefully off him and sashay towards the stairs. "Wait, what... what does that mean?"

Hermione turned back, cocking her head innocently. "Nothing," she sing-songed.

"Damn it, woman!" Harry growled. "What are you trying to say?"

Hermione grinned impishly. "I think you know. Don't wait too long to come up to bed."

"But what about your duck teryaki?" Ron butted in stupidly.

Hermione huffed exasperatedly, remembering, and waved her wand. " _Accio_!" The plate flew into her waiting hand. Harry just shook his head.

"You're an evil, evil woman," he growled, his green eyes darkened by lust.

"Oh," Hermione spun back on the landing. "And I'm not wearing any underwear. It feels nice and airy and... _wet_ down there. Just in case you need an incentive." She smirked at how Ron's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Harry moaned. "Evil, evil woman!"

Hermione glided upstairs. The men looked at each other for a moment.

"I call dibs!" Harry sprang out of his seat.

"Right behind you!" Ron snarled lustily, trying in vain to catch his husband.

* * *

The platform at King's Cross Station was misty and cluttered as Hermione Potter-Weasley checked over Josephine one last time. "Bag," she cataloged. "Jumper," zipping it shut. Briefly overcome, she pulled her daughter in for a hug. "I'm gonna miss you."

To the left of her stood Ron, his arm slung over a 9-year-old Oliver. At her right was Harry, bouncing a 6-year-old boy with dark hair and green eyes on his shoulders. The youngest child was teary, wiping his sleeve noisily over his face.

"It won't be long now, and you'll be going off for your first year, too," Harry comforted him.

"Yeah, but Daddy, that's like a _gazillion_ years away!" the boy sniffed. "I want to go with Josey _now_!"

"Albus Severus Potter-Weasley," Hermione chuckled as she lifted her youngest son down off his father's shoulder. "You have got to learn to be patient, my sweet!"

"He definitely didn't get _that_ from me," Harry muttered.

"Yeah, well, carrying him wasn't easy," Hermione whispered. "Arriving early as he did - he wanted out of there!" She turned back to her baby, and stroked back his hair - classically untamed, like his father's. "Besides, don't you want to have fun with Mummy and Daddy and Daddy Ron at home?"

Albus's eyes shone, picking up on one critical omission from that list. "Does this mean you're sending Ollie off to Muggle boarding school?"

"No," Hermione deadpanned. "Whyever would you think such a thing?" Ron held back a laugh, even as his son stuck out his tongue in Albus's direction.

Harry checked the pocket-watch that had once belonged to Fabian Prewett. "It's nearly eleven; you'd better get on board," he prompted his daughter, who hugged him around his middle tightly.

"Bye, Daddy Harry!"

"Bye, babe."

Josephine scrambled aboard the train and quickly found a compartment window where she could look out at her family, as the Hogwarts Express began to pull away. Around her, other students were craning their heads in her parents' direction. "Why are they all staring?"

"Don't let it worry you," Ron called back with a smirk. "It's me; I'm extremely famous!"

Josephine's laugh was drowned out by the train whistle blowing. Harry strolled leisurely down the platform as the engine began picking up speed. Soon, Josephine's hair and the train itself were a scarlet blur, rounding out of the tunnel; Harry's hand was still raised in farewell.

He sensed Hermione amble up to his side. "She'll be all right."

Turning to smile down at her, Harry flicked his finger and lightly touched the lightning scar on his forehead.

"I know she will."

The scar had not bothered Harry for 14 years. All was well.

* * *

 **A/N: The start of this chapter was borrowed from (and expanded upon) another excellent Trio Fic, _Happily Ever After_. **


End file.
